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THB OLD STONE MANSION.

trimmed with cherry-colored ribbons, and be- < etme her magically. \

“8he looks like a French Marqoise of the last $ century,” said Mr. Talbot. “What a high-bred ^ sir! One would think she had walked ont of a $ picture by ‘Greuze.* I must go and talk to her, $ and fancy I am in the Little Trianon, in the first s years of Marie Antoinette. 1 * i

These conversations always left a pang be- 1 hind them. In vain I chided myself, in secret; > in vain I said I was envious: I could not prevent \ a feeling of pain whenever Mr. Talbot thus eulo- j gized Georgians. I, who knew her so well, could \ not understand the glamour which she seemed l to have cast over him. \

Yet there were occasions when I doubted if ! Mr. Talbot cared for her. I could not forget \ what I had overheard him say about myself, $ And his manner to me, though not the least like $ that of lovers I had read of, was such as often < to set my heart beating. It was different, at all $ times, from what it was to Georgiana. It had ^ a high and knightly bearing, an under-current $ of acknowledged sympathy, which I never ob- ^ served in his manner to her. To my cousin he $ talked of fashion, the topics of society, European $ travel, the opera, the Springs: with me his $ themes were of a loftier character; and I could ^ not but be flattered by the distinction. Art, $ literature, social progress, heroic souls, deeds $ that would live forever: these were the subjects s we discussed. Ah! how his eye kindled, how !> his voice deepened with enthusiasm, as he spoke \ of the great dead; men, who had lived, not for n their own selfish aggrandizement, but for the ^ good of mankind; martyrs and patriots, who, in ^ the cause of country or of God, had taken their s lives in their hands, and gone forth to do battle $ with the Appolyon of their age. It was at such ^ times, that, looking at the rigid mouth, and eye ij that challenged defiance, I felt that he also could $ die for what he thought the right, yes! could jl pluck his own heart out, if need be. )

But I was not foolish enough to think he loved \ me. Whenever an hour had been spent with j him peculiarly agreeable, or whenever he seemed 5 to prefer my society to Georgiana’s, I used to i •ay to myself, when I was alone in my room: ^ “Margaret Gray, don't be silly; gentlemen, even ^ the best of them, like to amuse themselves with ^ girls: you must not suppose, because Mr. Talbot $ talks to you, that he forgets you are poor. Yet, as soon as we met again, I ceased to re- \ member this. I learned to detect his footstep, $ before he was in sight; to know him, by his gait, $ when he was so far off that I could hardly dis- s tinguish him. Once or twice he had joined me, in the customary ramble, which I took, at sun¬ set, up the beach; and on these occasions he was always strangely eloquent. He seemed to give himself up to the hour and to his company, talking as if I and Nature were parts of himself. This was a silent recognition, I said to myself, that I was worthy to share his higher thoughts. And then I chided myself for saying so.

On another occasion, we sat watching the moonlight on the sea, till, in listening to his talk, I forgot the time, and was surprised and a little abashed, when Georgiana came in search of me at a late hour.

“Dear me, 11 she said, with an affectation of surprise, “you here, Maggy. I hadn’t the least notion of it, and ran down, tired out with the silly fops in the drawing-room, to look at the ocean. 11 But I knew better; I knew she had come to watch me.

Meantime a fortnight passed There were daily rides, or sailing excursions, or parties to go crabbing; mornings spent in the bowling alleys, evenings devoted to dances or charades. In one respect, our acquaintance with Mr. Tal¬ bot had been of advantage to me, it procured me a share in these pleasures. Before his arrival, everybody considered me a governess, and as my uncle never asked me to participate in the sports constantly going on, nobody else thought it worth while. But now the fact that Mr. Tal¬ bot often invited me, and the knowledge that I was not a hired dependent, procured me, almost always, a share in such amusements. I fre¬ quently heard, “Is not Miss Gray going? 11 or “We can’t do without Miss Gray,” or “Miss Gray must come on our side, or the game won’t be fair.” I was quite a different person from the plain, neglected automaten of the month before.

One day there was a crabbing party at Point Breeze, a shady promontory on the Cbincoree river, within a convenient drive of the hotel. It was a sultry morning, for a land breeze was blowing, and we had all repaired there, because, at such times it was hottest at the beach, but was comparatively cool at the Point, there being a long stretch of river and bay to the westward, which impregnated the wind with something of its own refreshing temperature.

Georgiana, too fine a lady to join in our sport, was sitting under an awning, fanning herBelf languidly, when Mr. Talbot looked up from his line.

“What do you say to a sail, Miss Elliott?” he said. “You seem dreadfully bored. Come, I will be your cavalier; a modern Cavendish, if you will; and we’ll go in search of new El Dorados.’